The water is wide with the apprehension of deep breath. Loon ululates across the spaces in between. Water has gathered for gathering, chaste in cherish. We almost know what we do with our shit. The immense possible life still scores rock in its register. Vocabulary contains nearness. The loon cannot be forgotten, tremolo duet. Bespeak the elegance of this mapped portion, as slow and stern as rain. Boats assert in cold transit and, likewise, the last gasp. Sunrise and sunset both stretch on the water, making place a moment. Repeat the pasture of loon, undivided.
Walking is not walking if Gertrude chooses not to walk. The premise: Gertrude Stein is not walking. She may be on a boat, not walking, crossing the wide ocean sea. Leaving inevitable France but not walking. Dramatic but not walking. Sentenced but not walking. There were days of walking but not this day. Reading or just looking but not walking.There were sentences full of walking but not walking. Talking maybe but not walking in or out. A time lived and walking was done then if not now. It was a doing and it was a done. Not forgetting Alice who may have had walking done or even doing. The annals say Leo Stein walked along, up to and including the degree of not walking, along. Those flower names walked along, Matisse, Picasso, Laurencin, in varieties. An adding war or two closed or opened anything jump. Apollinaire in the historical. Languages of shapes and sizes bounding for just the time and a little beyond. And that was the how sentence. In that time but also forward until readi...
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